Long Zip up Poems
Long Zip up Poems. Below are the most popular long Zip up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zip up poems by poem length and keyword.
Heyyy friend, since we always UP to something, I wanna give a tribute to the word UP, because everyday of our life we do something meaningful with the word up.
So with that being said, I wanna know, what’s UP with you?
How many of these UPs did you do today?
hurry up, stand up, start up, write up
raise up, push up, speed up, mark up, fill up
come up, pull up, step up, climb up
drive up, straighten up, cheer up, tear up
rise up, lift up, run up, clean up, buckle up
chin up, pin up, put up, shut up
get up, sit up, hit up, spit up
woke up, broke up, spoke up
boot up, toot up, man up, hand up
chew up, blew up, screw up
walk up, talk up, hype up, type up
dress up, mess up, fold up, hold up
wake up, make up, break up
toss up, boss up, lay up, pay up
look up, hook up, took up, shook up
tighten up, lighten up, wrap up, strap up
save up, gave up, head up, made up
lick up, stick up, pick up
slip up, whip up, rip up, zip up
stock up, lock up, knock up
go up, show up, grow up, throw up, blow up
but never ever slow up
pop up, hop up, mop up, stop up
burn up, turn up, stuck up, luck up, f’k up
heat up, eat up, beat up, feet up
back up, pack up, rack up, jack up, stack up
but never ever slack up
I did a lot of these UPs today, but most importantly, I Stayed up and Prayed up…
Well, my “time UP,” lol
So what’s up? Can you think of any I missed?
How did the phrase “Spitting Image” originate
Seems kinda gross to me
Now here's something I've often wondered about
Do Queens expectorate... surely Kings do
For that matter, they pass wind too
Some people... okay some men...
Make a big production out of passing wind
Lifting one leg and doing a slow fist pump
Followed by a “whoooooeeeeee
That surely was one of my best ones ever!”
Strange how us so-called sophisticated humans
Sometimes pretend the foul odor was perpetrated
By someone else in the room
Suspiciously looking around holding our nose
And waving our other hand saying
“Wow! Something must have died up there!”
Bodily functions are as normal as apple pie
Uh, that's not really a good analogy!!!
We used to call it “passing wind”
Now a much more sophisticated definition has evolved
According to the dictionary, the word “fartology”
Is simply defined as the act of loudly expelling air
Through the aperture in one's derriere
You are not far from the end
Another sign that you ain't no spring chicken
Is when you repeat the same sentence twice in a row
Is when you repeat the same sentence twice in a row
Also when you forget to zip up after you pee
What's worse though is when you forget to zip down
When everything hurts and what doesn't hurt doesn't work
It feels like the morning after and you haven't been anywhere
Your knees buckle but your belt won't
You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there
You sing along with elevator music
You have a dream about prunes
Your nose and ears are hairier than your head
In dog years you're dead
Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional
And finally... inside every old person is a young person
Wondering what the hell happened!
Form:
Walked into a ruddy stop sign today
Damn thing's been there for eons
Concentration lately is all shot to hell
It's the looney bin for me e'er long
They'll lock me up this time for good
Probably it's best that they do
Before I do some irreparable damage
And I wind up royally screwed
Thought I had things under control
Wear underwear most every day
But at times I'm known to wander off
Police bring me back when I stray
Bumping into things ain't a good sign
Quite famous all over the town
Forgetting to zip up after having a pee
Or even forgetting to zip down
So sad an ending to a productive life
Babbling to myself as I drool
But the friends I talk to inside my head
Understand me and think I'm cool!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Ok keep below the radar, stay out of sight,
Bury your head in the sand, do not incite,
Why get involved, it’s not your fight,
Zip up your mouth, should be alright.
Rise above them, turn the other cheek,
Play It real cool, no trouble you seek,
Come on dad, they’ll think I’m a geek,
I want to look strong, not appear weak.
Oh I see! so you want to act tough,
Look like your made, from real hard stuff,
Grind your teeth, Want to play rough,
What if they decide, to call your bluff.
Better be able, to swallow your pride,
Eat humble pie, then go take a ride,
Don’t want to be like, a little girl guide,
Run home to mummy, or go and hide.
I won’t be bullied, I’ll stand my ground,
I’m not going to get pushed around,
Face the music, go round for round,
Whoa there kid, it’s courage you found,
Got more balls than me, her dad frowned.
By
David Kavanagh
There was a grasshopper in my porridge, and he had stopped hopping,
But luckily I found him before he was one hundred percent gone.
I fished him out with a silver spoon, and his eyes popped open,
He looked hopeful.
His eyes were yellow, but tender.
Not buggy or anything, no offense.
There was a grasshopper on the counter now, and I gave him mouth-to-mouth.
His little chest was heaving, and he looked grateful.
I knew he was socialized, for he closed his eyes,
He looked respectful.
His breathing started to settle down.
Not disgusting or anything, no kidding.
There was a grasshopper on my sewing table, hopping around, clapping his claws.
His happy chirps led me to believe he knew what I was about.
I made him an entire winter wardrobe, it being winter.
He looked dashing
His black fuzzy zip-up suit looked lovely,
Not too tightly-fitted, just right actually.
There was a grasshopper once upon a time, named Poindexter.
He had summer clothes, winter clothes, and spring clothes.
He hopped outside one fine summer day, and was stolen
By faeries,
My perfect little man.
So he never got the fall clothes.
They sit on my sewing machine, waiting.
(Inspired by Demetrios Trifiatis' Woman's Day Poems)
At this ripe old age of seventy-eight
Thought girlies would no longer phase me
On the contrary, more now than ever before
A lifetime girl watchers club honouree
A member of the club of leering old men
They still turn my rusty old crank
Just because sometimes I fail to zip up
I'm still pretty alert to be frank
I admit at times I forget to wear jockeys
In combination with failing to zip up
The impact of these two glaring omissions
Cause a furor when playing mini-putt
Sure gather a crowd, thought at first it was me
My rugged good looks and stuff
Soon realized they all were focusing below
Guess it's better than playing in the buff
© Jack Ellison 2014
I wonder if it’s that hard?
I am young and full of years.
I walk this beach every day and watch
The tides come in, and drive back out.
Birds fly gracefully above my head and
The breeze blows sand into my face.
My feet sink into the damp out skirt of the shore
And I splash around in the water.
It’s not easy to come across death and not respond
In some sort of way. I am full of energy
And you lay by my side faded away.
Even though you are only a bird
You deserve a proper burial. Your wings have
Insects circling around them. Buz-buz and zzzz.
They are waiting for me to
Go. But I can’t just leave you here.
What if it was me laying here dead?
I would like to think just because I am human
And you are an animal, we are similar.
We both share the same air,
We both need nourishment, we both live and
We both die. I’d like to think if I were you someone
On this planet would care.
You once flew with that sun kissed colored wings
I walk with these porcelain painted legs
As I take off my white zip- up sweater and show you respect
I gently cover you before the rest of the inspectors come.
How you ended up along this beach
Lifeless and deserted, I shall never know.
Maybe you were sick? Or it was just your time.
But I will give you a proper burial
It’s a seed that I must sow
Showing respect for a life
As the tide comes and it goes.
By: Sabina Nicole
More about yours truly. A momentus event.
Did you know that the Kidster sleeps in a tent?
Pitched right in the middle of his living room.
He often sleeps there to escape his gloom.
A single bed furnishes the inside.
That's all I truly need
and just before I then decide
to turn in and go to sleep
I turn on my stereo
at a volume very low
and play my wilderness CD.
The sounds of night time crickets,
the mating calls of frogs,
the distant thunder on the horizon,
my camfire burning my last log,
then I zip up my tent,
both the windows and the entrance.
I may be pitched in my living room,
but inside my tent
I am truly content
as if I'm truly sleeping in the middle of the wilderness.
The sounds of nature outside my tent
drifts me off into relaxed sleep most content.
Only the real thing would be better than this.
Let's go chow down.
Was he serious?
I could barely walk now.
Then I thought of the buffets.
All nine of them.
And the shrimp.
And the lobster.
I could go in my pajamas if I wanted.
So I rolled myself out of my teeny tiny not-so-great room
And I headed for Buffet number eight
So glad I had come on this cruise with my husband
Who was used to seeing me in my pajamas.
As we passed pajama-clad people in every corridor
I began to wish I had brought my zebra zip up suit.
It has no elastic around the waist whatsoever.
Cruises are all about eating.
If you know what you are doing.
And I do.
Walked into a ruddy stop sign today
Damn thing's been there for eons
Concentration lately is all shot to hell
It's the looney bin for me e'er long
They'll lock me up this time for good
Probably it's best that they do
Before I do some irreparable damage
And I wind up royally screwed
Thought I had things under control
Wear underwear most every day
But at times I'm known to wander off
Police bring me back when I stray
Bumping into things ain't a good sign
Quite famous all over the town
Forgetting to zip up after having a pee
Or even forgetting to zip down
So sad an ending to a productive life
Babbling to myself as I drool
But the friends I talk to inside my head
Understand me and think I'm cool!
© Jack Ellison 2013